Escapade
by thefishbag
Summary: Sousuke's little escapade fails. Unfortunately, there are consequences. Gauron x Sousuke slash.


Disclaimer: I don't own FMP. All rights reserved to GONZO.

Summary: Sousuke's little escapade fails. Unfortunately, there are consequences. Slash.

Snippet: _"I had left for London to meet Gauron for an exchange of highly classified military intelligence. Of course, I what I really mean is I snuck to London to secretly meet Gauron for a very illegal breach of confidentiality to swap gossip on the Whispered."_

**Escapade**

The sensation of falling unconscious involuntarily is never something one can become satisfactorily acquainted with. Like the deafening roar of a single gunshot, it jerks too abrasively on the nails of reality and death.

So is the sensation of waking up. Not waking up after a good night's rest, or even waking up after a short-lived nap during bleary hours in the midst of combat. Waking up after involuntarily passing out is one of the most profound awakenings one can experience while still in the world of the living.

Which was an experience I was not accustomed to, waking up disoriented and lost.

I laid very still for the brief seconds it took for me to identify the white washed, white lighted, and very sterile hospital room I was in.

I sorted through my memories of recent events prior to my untimely incapacitation. I had left for London to meet Gauron for an exchange of highly classified military intelligence. Of course, I what I really mean is I snuck to London to secretly meet Gauron for a very illegal breach of confidentiality to swap gossip on the Whispered. It probably didn't improve my case that we also spent the rest of the day together, not as a _date_ of course, before I was ambushed on my way back to the airport.

My last conscious memory involved a lot of gunfire and bleeding. I recall several bits and chunks of my body missing. I was also leaking several pints of valuable internal fluids through those aforementioned holes. Clearly, I blacked out shortly after and Gauron had the decency to _kindly_ radio Kalenin to pick up my bleeding carcass. I thought sourly about owing Gauron a favor as I flexed my limbs to confirm they were all still there. The quick assessment confirmed that all my missing bits and holes also appeared to have been patched up and I was in no immediate danger.

I use the word immediate with great prudence. While it is certain that I would not be bleeding to death from my wounds. I dread to discover the punishment for defying direct orders is.

"_Sergeant Sagara, you are to immediately cease all contact with the terrorist known as Gauron. Are we clear?"_

Ouch.

Not only I had gone against his explicit demand, I wounded up, as Kurtz happily informed me, in coma from the collateral damage of four broken ribs and a punctured lung. I was in extensive care unit for more than a week due to the severe internal bleeding. My attackers' corpses were found later, so mutilated that it had been impossible to confirm their identify.

I also came to realize, immobile and stiff all over, that current international affairs didn't fare much better than me or my attackers. There was a state of pandemonium that sent every military organization scrabbling to hang onto something for dear life – missing Russian missiles, biological weapon threats, Al-Aeda attacks, armed Argentinean rebels, drug cartels, Irish terrorists, and massacres in Africa. The world sat at the brink of Armageddon.

If that was what three weeks of sexual frustration did to Gauron, I shudder to think about the state of the world had I been unconscious any longer.

I also discovered that the Captain had been personally by my bedside, much to the chagrin of Chidori who could only send flowers. It's usually during times like these that I question my ability to reason. For example, I think Miss Chidori is a very sweet girl who, aside from her occasional homicidal tendencies, is an excellent candidate for a girlfriend. The Captain isn't so bad either, but there's an issue of fraternization there. Instead, I have to associate myself to a dangerous criminal who is practically wanted terrorist in every country. Who is also, by the way, a fucking psychopath with a mad grin and enough artillery to blow the Devil right out of Hell.

Kurtz snuck in a bag of get well gifts later while he caught me up with the recent events. I thought I heard him mutter moodily about being held at gunpoint by someone's homicidal boyfriend and I wondered briefly when Mao had gotten a boyfriend. After he left I gratefully emptied the presents out of the plastic bag into a small heap on my lap. (One of the nurses admitted that a certain good Commander had tried to have them disposed before she intervened.)

As I sorted through them, I found various packs of sweets and snacks. Most of them included very generic well wishing cards as well. A few came from my classmates, who thought I was recuperating for a falling out a second story window. Miss Chidori had passed along her _very _expensive mini LCD DVD player (she emphasized this in her card with a passing death threat should even a single scratch appear on it) with a copy of a movie called Densha Otoko. I gingerly moved it to one side, knowing she would make good on her threat.

There was a small package wrapped in brown paper that momentarily stopped my shuffling. It was plain and unmarked except by a small "Kashim" in the middle of the package in a very untidy but an all too familiar scrawl. Suddenly, I felt an overwhelming surge of appreciation for the sheer tolerance my teammates have for anything Gauron related. I suppose Mao hadn't gotten a boyfriend after all.

I only hesitated for a fraction of a second before ripping it open. There could have been more than a slight possibility that it was rigged with explosives, but I doubt that Gauron would try to kill me in such an unimaginative method after going through all the trouble to save me. If he wanted to kill me, he would do it up close and personal, so he could dig his knife into me and be close enough to feel the heat of my blood splattering on his face. He'd want to be there to look at my dying face. The asshole would probably get off on it, too.

Which are actually some rather inappropriate and gruesome thoughts, I berated myself. I'm usually not so morbid. Then again, I'm not usually in a morphine-induced coma for extended periods either. Must have been the all those sedatives.

Enclosed in the package was the newest volume of the Samurai Deeper Kyo manga. It seems he remembered my rather juvenile pastimes. And carefully inserted inside the cover flap of the manga I found the closest thing I could ever call a letter from Gauron. I had never even seen the man write anything of any sort. He's the type to shoot first and then talk. And if that didn't resolve things the way he liked to, then he'd blow everything to bits. It wasn't a letter or even note in technicality, and contained only two words.

Endearing actually, to hear them from him once.

>>>>

I was halfway through the sweets and almost finished with manga when I first noticed the faint warnings of approaching danger. Kyo had just kindly informed Benitora that the new love of his life, Akari, was actually a male. Really, the idiot should have gotten a clue the minute she started abusing Akira, Hotaru, and Boutenmaru with such familiarity. Though the lady in question really did remind me uncannily of a certain female I knew… violent tendencies and all.

And then, I felt it.

It was a slow chill. One that pervaded into the room and crept stealthy up against my arms and my spine. I shivered. As it moved closer I felt the pure killing intent in its aura. I went into action immediately as I quickly stashed the get-well goodies under my pillows and rearranged them to hide the protruding shapes.

Real fear began to set in finally when the murderous aura did not abate. It was closer now and a well-defined mass of epic proportions. I could almost see its black tendrils curling into my room like the tentacles of a giant demonic beast. It was an aura more menacing than that twenty-five German terrorists with an airplane full of hostages. More dangerous than the rugged guerilla warfare of Columbia. More frightening that of a hungry ten-foot tall grizzly bear. And was, by far, more intimidating than Miss Chidori will ever be. Though I must claim temporary insanity to the thought it was not quite as menacing as Gauron at his worst.

When the faint footsteps could be heard echoing ominously in the deserted hallway outside my room, I quickly amended that. The sound of the sliding glass doors roused me from my reverie.

Ah, Kalenin's just passed the last set of doors into the room that contained my bed.

Should I pretend that I'm still unconscious?


End file.
